See How Deep the Bullet Lies
by The Pris
Summary: [Post 2.18] Slade Wilson intends to tear everything Oliver Queen cares about away from him. Intends to corrupt him in the eyes of those who care for him. He told Thea the truth about Malcolm Merlyn. He told Laurel the truth about the Arrow. So Felicity isn't all that surprised when she comes home one night and finds Slade Wilson waiting for her.


**Author**: The Pris

**Rating: **T/PG-13

**Fandom: **Arrow

**Title: **See How Deep the Bullet Lies

**Summary: **[Post 2.18] Slade Wilson intends to tear everything Oliver Queen cares about away from him. Intends to corrupt him in the eyes of those who care for him. He told Thea the truth about Malcolm Merlyn. He told Laurel the truth about the Arrow. So Felicity isn't all that surprised when she comes home one night and finds Slade Wilson waiting for her.

**Disclaimer: **I can in no way take any credit for the amazing show that the CW has given to us. I'm just borrowing the characters because I love taking the characters and exploring paths that the show never took. Title for this story comes from the song 'running up that hill' by Placebo.

* * *

**Part I.**

Felicity Smoak falls in love entirely by accident.

Her mother is her mother and, while she doesn't really remember her father, she _does _remember bits and pieces. She remembers visiting him at the hospital where he worked and staring in awe at all of the beeping machines with their many, many wires and she remembers following him into the garage each night before dinner and dangling over his shoulder so she could watch as he fiddled with wires and fixed the broken radio with ease.

She remembers how he would chuckle and say _you're your mother's daughter, Lissy _with his bright smile strewn over his face.

She remembers how he would call her _princess _when he was proud of her.

She also remembers how much it hurt when he left.

She's five.

It hurts. It hurts _so much_.

She waits and waits for him to come home, because he _promised _he would, but he never comes back and she decides that it doesn't matter if her father went away. Felicity still has her mother and her mother is the _best _mother.

Jessica Smoak is the prettiest mother in the whole world, and the smartest, and she works at a museum, and Felicity thinks it's the best job in the world. Eddie Raymond's mother drops her off at the museum each day on the way home from school and her mother always lets her stay as long as she promises to be good.

Felicity listens.

But her mother _never _stops believing that her husband will come home. Even when her mother can no longer pay the mortgage and they have to move out of their two-storey house in Midvale and into a two bedroom apartment in Bakerline, even when years pass without a word from him, Jessica Smoak never stops believing.

She tells her daughter to believe, too.

Felicity doesn't have the heart to tell her mother that she doesn't.

Her mother tells her stories about her father – Tony Smoak – and she listens to them and holds onto as many details as she can remember because someday, _someday_, she is going to find him. Not because she wants him to come back, but because she doesn't know why he left. It's a mystery.

Felicity _hates _mysteries. They need to be solved.

She's eight and she is listening to her mother's story about how she only ate bread sticks on their first date when she throws the tantrum to end all tantrums. Her mother has always ended her stories by saying that Tony loves them so much but he had to go away but it's a _lie_. Felicity screams and throws things and screams at her mother to stop lying, to stop saying that he _still _loves them, before she scrambles to her feet and runs to her room.

She is crying, sprawled on her bed, when her mother finds her later. "Felicity," her mother sighs as she runs her fingers through the wild curls, "he went away because he had to find something, baby, but he'll be back. He promised."

Felicity runs a sleeve across her snotty nose and nods even though she doesn't believe her mother. Jessica Smoak is special. She is pretty and smart but it's her unwavering faith and big, big heart that makes her _really _special.

Felicity likes to believe that she shares those things with her mother.

She is twelve when she realizes that her mother isn't only special. She's also sick.

She only notices the small things first. Felicity spends more time at Eddie Raymond's house – which doesn't bother her because her stomach feels all fluttery when he smiles at her and he has the _coolest _games for his Gameboy – because her mother has a lot of doctor appointments. More prescription bottles are on the top shelf of the cupboard than before and the pills _look different_.

Then her mother becomes annoyed more easily.

She snaps one day when she comes home and finds Felicity taking apart the radio and the toaster because she wants to know how they work. Tears sting Felicity's eyes because her mother has never cared before so she doesn't know why she's mad _now_.

Her mother, her smart and beautiful mother, becomes confused more easily. Forgets things.

Her mother is… _different_.

But it doesn't matter. Her mother is her mother and she _loves _her.

Felicity never cries or becomes mad when her mother forgets something, she never shouts back when her mother gets mad at her, and she never lets it hurt because she knows deep down her mother doesn't mean it. Her mother is sick.

And when she hears her mother cry to herself in bed, Felicity crawls in beside her mother and lets her fragile mother tell her stories about Tony Smoak who will come back because he promised he would and he loves them both so much.

Felicity silently promises herself that she will always look out for her mother.

Her sweet, soft-hearted, _sick _mother.

But then high school ends – she is speechless for the first time in her life because dear god dear lord she never ever has to see Rachel Kyle again – and she receives her acceptance letters from Yale and Caltech and MIT.

She doesn't want to go to Yale.

Caltech was her back-up.

Her heart belongs to MIT.

Her mother and grandmother are thrilled and they take her out to celebrate. Felicity then spends the months after graduation working to save for college, trying to pack her entire life into boxes, and watching crappy horror movies with Eddie.

Three weeks before leaving for MIT she is out with Eddie, one last hurrah before this chapter of her life ends, and her smile is wide when she gets home but then she finds the oven left on. Her mother doesn't _remember _turning it on. Felicity's heart breaks and all of the things she failed to notice over the past few months because of her excited haze flash before her eyes.

Her mother is more forgetful.

Her mother gets confused more easily.

Her mother's condition has deteriorated and she can't take care of herself.

Felicity turns off the oven before she starts to pace the kitchen, chewing her thumbnail, spitting out the flakes of nail polish as it comes off and her heart _sinks_. Her mother can't be left alone and Felicity doesn't have the heart to leave her because she _refuses _to abandon her mother the way her father abandoned them.

Her bright blue eyes fill with tears as she stares at her acceptance letter to MIT – full ride, tuition and board – but then she shoves it away and digs out her acceptance letter to Metropolis University. Felicity calculates the cost and tuition because she doesn't _have _to go to MIT. She can attend university at home and take care of her mother.

She tells her grandmother the next day but the woman is stubborn and won't hear of it.

Eight days later Jessica Smoak is involuntarily committed to the Berkowitz Sanitarium in Metropolis.

Felicity fights her grandmother on it because finding out just how sick her mother is cracks her heart, but the words her mother screams at her when she finds out she's being committed are the landslide that unravel her.

Her heart _still _aches when she thinks about that day.

She remembers, even now, how much it _hurt_.

It hurts just as much, if not more so, as it did when her father left her and that's when she decides that she does have some say in who hurts her. Felicity knows she won't always choose who _she _hurts, just like her mother never chose to hurt her, but she is damn well going to protect her heart. Opening her heart up to others just seems like an invitation to more pain.

Felicity still cares about her mother and her grandmother and Eddie – the love of her young life and the boy who kissed her on her 13th birthday because he didn't want someone else to kiss her first – but everyone else is a liability. She has some boyfriends but she never lets them all the way in. She has some friends but they're just people she talks to at work and sometimes on weekends if she's bored. She hides behind her technology because she refuses to let people into her heart. She refuses to have her heart broken again.

Felicity Smoak wants her heart to stay intact.

But then Oliver Queen comes back from the dead and walks into her office.

He walks in with his charming playboy smile in place and a horrible lie on his lips – she may be blonde but she's not _that _blonde and she knows that bullets, not a latte, brought the poor laptop to its early demise – but genuine mirth flashes in his eyes when she calls bullshit on his lie. She suspects that he isn't used to it because most people fall over backwards to please him because he's Oliver Queen.

But Felicity Smoak isn't most people.

He doesn't own up to his lie and because she _lost her freakin' mind _she helps him.

His lies get worst but he keeps coming back and she keeps helping him – she still hates mysteries and that's what he is, and she wants to figure him out – and before she knows it she loses a piece of her heart to Oliver (Not the first piece, that went to Walter, who was always so nice to her and recognized just how talented she was and how hard she worked to get where she is). She thinks Oliver's a little bit spoiled and a lot full of himself the first couple of times he visits, but she figures that lot of people write him off for exactly that reason and she suspects that he gives off that vibe on purpose. He wants to keep people from getting too close and she can understand that.

But then she finds him shot and bleeding in the backseat of her car and she listens and takes him to his father's old factory instead of the hospital, common sense be damned, and that night is the first time she watches him flat line and the first time she sees his scars. _He's been through a lot worst_, Mr. Diggle tells her, and as she stares at the scars she believes him.

She wonders which ones he got on the island. She wonders which ones are newer additions that have been added since he put on the green hood and started a one-man war against the corrupt in Starling City.

It is the first time she stops to think of the hood – which, btw, is a _horrible _name but it's been months so he's probably stuck with it and that just sucks – as something other than a criminal. It's the first time she realizes how much he's willing to sacrifice for the people of the city and when he wakes up she aims a bright smile at him because he's okay.

Felicity doesn't notice the blood on the collar of her sweater until she gets home. Her eyes linger on it and her hands shake when she realizes that the blood is Oliver's because he was bleeding and dying hours before. Right in front of her.

Her heart gives a twinge, and she thinks, _Damn it, Smoak. Get out before it's too late._

She tells Oliver that she'll only help until they find Walter, and they _do _find him, but then she continues to help because she knew the truth the moment Oliver revealed his secret identity to her. Regardless of what she said, she knows it's already too late. She'll never be able to walk away.

The next piece of her heart goes to John Diggle. Honestly she could love him just for the way he looks out for Oliver. He pushes their brooding hero to talk but he never pushes too far. He has Oliver's back out in the field when he's needed. He patches Oliver up when something goes wrong. And Digg's always there to remind Oliver that he is more than the man under the hood; reminds him that he is also a friend and a brother and a son.

But of course, Felicity gets to know Digg in his own right, and she loves him for himself. He's the big brother she never had and never knew she wanted and he's the only reason she doesn't fall apart completely after the Undertaking. Oliver leaves and that brings up memories she tries really hard not to think about but Digg doesn't. He doesn't go anywhere.

After Digg, it's like the dam breaks.

Detective Lance intimidates the _hell _out of her when he brings her in for questioning, but when Oliver comes back, Lance becomes an unofficial team member, and he sneaks into her heart, too. His quick wit is enough for her to like him but it's the love he has for Laurel, for Sara, that wins her over. Felicity wishes _her dad _had been more like Detective Lance.

Sara comes back from the dead, too, and is a certified badass and completely terrifying. She really, really is. But Felicity admires her, then idolizes her, then realizes Sara has found her way into Felicity's heart just like the rest of the morons that she fondly calls Team Arrow.

Roy finds his way in, too, but he takes a little longer.

Felicity knows it isn't fair but she just doesn't trust Roy. Not at first. He has the mirakuru in him and she does not trust him out in the field with _her _team. Team Arrow is her family and she does not give a damn if Roy is basically a super solider because if he ends up being Red Skull instead of a rough-around-the-edges Captain America, she _will _stab him with Oliver's arrows repeatedly until he looks like a pin cushion.

But then he breaks up with Thea and he's heartbroken.

Her heart gives a twinge just like it did with Oliver all of those months ago and she swears under her breath because of it. Felicity's heart aches in her chest when she sees his wounded puppy dog look and she can't help but be pissed at Oliver – he was totally the one to cook up this plan because it has his brand of idiocy written all over it and Mother of Google she hasn't been this mad at him since Russia – and as a result she becomes fiercely protective of Roy.

Felicity _makes _the decision to allow herself to love him and she thinks she should be given a free pass for this one because Roy, for all his sarcasm and quick temper, doesn't have enough people looking out for him. Plus she's always wanted a smartass little brother.

Roy takes the longest but he isn't the last.

_That _spot belongs to Thea.

She doesn't know Thea, not personally, but she loves her anyway because Oliver and Roy love her. Felicity can barely think straight when the girl is kidnapped because Oliver is a mess and Roy is hulk-levels of angry but she forces herself to focus and she spends hours looking through pictures. It takes her all night to look through the gazillion pictures manually when Thea is taken by Slade Wilson.

Digg comments on it, estimating how many pictures it must have been.

But Felicity doesn't bat an eyelash, simply says, "It's Thea."

But Team Arrow doesn't win, they lose epically, and everything changes.

Roy leaves.

Isabel takes over QC.

Slade is let go by the SCPD.

Thea comes home safe but she knows about Malcolm.

Just like that their lives are turned upside down and split into _before _and _after_.

"You're not alone, man." Diggle swears, eyes trained Oliver, when it's just the original team standing together in the foundry.

Felicity smiles in agreement because Oliver _isn't _alone. It's just like Digg said almost a year ago when they faced off against Malcolm Merlyn. He hasn't been alone since he brought them into this.

Diggle's arms cross over his chest and he steps closer to Oliver. "Now what, boss?"

Oliver inhales deeply through his nose and his eyes lock onto Felicity, nothing is said but a million words are passed between them and all he hears is _if you're not leaving I'm not leaving_, and then he focuses on Diggle. "Now we fight back." His voice is still hoarse but there is strength there, too.

Felicity lets the words wash over her and she nods.

Because Felicity Smoak falls in love entirely by accident.

But that no longer matters because stupidly she _did _fall in love.

She fell in love with each and every member of Team Arrow. Her family.

Her heart still pounds in her chest but she repeats Oliver's words until it's the only thing she hears. Now we fight back. Now _we _fight back. Determination floods her veins because Slade Wilson wants to tear everyone Oliver cares about away from him, but that also means tearing the people _she _cares about away from _her_.

She loves them, too.

And she loves _Oliver_.

And she'll be damned before she loses them to Slade Wilson.

**. . .**

Exhaustion starts to sink in several hours later.

But Felicity powers through it because she hasn't been sleeping lately anyway.

Her nose scrunches up thought because she _knows _how she must look – she's still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, she's barefoot because she abandoned her heels hours ago, her hair is down for once and cascades down her back in a mess of tangled curls, and she is _exhausted _– but she cannot bring herself to care.

She just wants coffee.

Her teeth catch her bottom lip as she sends _another _text to Roy, and then she scowls at the coffee machine in front of her. It is taking for-freaking-ever and her mind feels sluggish and how stupid is it that she has to leave the lair and venture up to the bar for coffee?

Seriously.

The least Oliver can do is buy her a coffee machine for the lair. He's asked her to hack every federal database known to man and ARGUS probably thinks she is a cyber-terrorist and she can't even remember the last time she had a full night's sleep because she spends each night talking into Oliver's ear –

She squeezes her eyes shut and counts. _3… 2… 1…_

Felicity runs a shaky hand across her forehead when she processes her line of thought and all she can muster is a soft whine. Her faulty brain-to-mouth filter seems more defective than usual and she _so _doesn't need that right now. She needs sleep. And she knows, just knows, that one cup of coffee isn't going to be enough to turn her into a functioning human being once more.

Honestly she is so tired Oliver may as well provide her with a coffee IV.

But then the coffee machine takes pity on her and beeps. Relief slams into her as she fills her favorite coffee mug to the rim and takes the first sip. She doesn't even care that the coffee is disgusting because it's strong and coffee is coffee and it is the nectar of the gods.

It's the sole reason for her current waking stare.

She grabs her mug and, after just a moment of hesitation, she takes the coffee pot in her other hand before she starts walking back to the lair. Everything is falling apart right in front of them and Felicity_ so _does not have time to run back up to the club every time she runs out of coffee.

If Digg and Oliver make fun of her for it she is more than happy to have _that _conversation before she adds them to the no fly list.

Her movements are slower as she walks down the stairs but neither of her boys notice because they're too busy training. Oliver seems to be taking all of his frustration and anger out on Digg by using the Special Forces veteran as a punching bag.

"Just as I left you," she murmurs as she watches them, and then she sinks into her chair and frowns at her computer when she notices the alerts on her screens. "But not as I left _you_…"

Felicity gulps down half of the contents of her mug before she places it and the coffee pot off to the side, then her fingers are dancing across the keyboard.

Her movements are slower and she is only half as animated as she should be but she powers through the sleep deprivation and exhaustion as she searches through ARGUS' database for everything they have on Deathstroke – which, Felicity admits, is pretty cool as far as super villain names go.

Deathstroke has left behind a trail of bodies on his way to Starling City, but she doesn't care who he _has _killed. Well, she _does_ care, because those people probably had families and friends and people who miss them but she can't think about that now because she has to focus on her family. _Her _family is the one in Slade Wilson's cross-hairs… except he uses a sword and swords don't have cross-hairs… but that _so _isn't the point.

Felicity has to figure out what his _next _move is.

She knows, they all know, what his master plan is.

Slade Wilson wants to tear everything Oliver cares about away from him. Telling Thea the truth about Malcolm and helping Isabel Rochev take over QC was just the beginning – and isn't it just _peachy _that the she-devil just so happens to be working with their archenemy?

Slade has been one step ahead of them from the start and she is _sick _of it.

But he is a ghost and, aside from the list of dead bodies he's left behind, she finds no traces of him since he crashed on Lian Yu.

If Felicity didn't know better she would believe the man had died on that damn island.

And, maybe, in some ways, Slade Wilson _did _die on Lian Yu.

Felicity drains the contents of her mug before she turns to a different screen and switches her focus to Isabel. _She _was the one that did up the dossier on the woman when she first started gunning for QC, though, so none of the information she finds is exactly news. Nothing she finds on Isabel Rochev points to her being a super villain.

Isabel is a bitch and completely terrifying but everything is 100% legal. Including her taking QC from Oliver.

Why Isabel is working with Slade is a mystery.

And Felicity _still _hates mysteries because they _need _to be solved.

But she can't even find out _when _Isabel first crossed paths with Slade.

Because Slade is supposed to be dead and in Oliver's past, not present, and how are you supposed to track a ghost?

Felicity shoves her keyboard away in frustration before she brings her hands up to rub her temples. _This _is the one thing she is supposed to be good at and she is failing miserably because Team Deathstroke covered their tracks incredibly well and she can't find anything.

But that's unacceptable because _she _is the brains behind Team Arrow.

Oliver and Digg and Sara and Roy are the muscle, except no, Roy _left _and he hasn't responded to any of her texts and she would normally be freaking out right now but she doesn't have time to freak out and worry about him because she is too worried about Isabel and Slade and whatever god-awful thing they are planning to do next.

Her entire body tenses when a hand falls on her shoulder, but she forces herself to relax because the gesture is warm and familiar and she _knows _its Oliver.

"Felicity…"

Oliver's voice is softer than usual and it is a tone that she recognizes as the one he reserves for her – the same one that he used when he said she was his partner and when he said _there was no choice to make_. Her heart speeds up and it isn't her previous fear that makes her heart hammer a little harder in her chest.

Felicity knows exactly what _it_ is but she ignores it because it doesn't matter and he's with Sara.

"Hey…" He continues.

Felicity lolls her head to the side to rest it on his forearm and he takes that as the go-ahead because then he's stepping back and spinning her chair around.

He crouches in front of her and his hand rests on her shoulder, rubbing comforting circles on her collarbone, and it would _so _easy for her to fall apart in his arms but she doesn't because this isn't about her. This is about _him_. Slade wants to tear everything away from _Oliver_.

Not Her.

But it feels like it _is _about her because she cares about the same people.

"I'm fine," Felicity mumbles as she stares blankly at her hands. "I just – there's nothing. They've covered their tracks really, _really _well and I know that _this _is my skill-set and my skills are supposed to trump theirs but there is literally nothing and I, uh – I can't remember the last time I actually slept and… and I'm _tired_."

Oliver's gaze softens and she knows that he understands. He's tired, too. He's exhausted, too. And not just physically – which he is, and she _knows _he is, because the dark circles under his eyes tell her that he's been sleeping even less than _her _– but also mentally. Slade is in his head and Oliver can't get him out.

Felicity can see it when she looks at him because the look in his eyes is the same one that has been staring back at her in the mirror since Slade Wilson announced his presence in Starling City.

Oliver's hand slides from her shoulder and down her arm until he reaches her hand, then he squeezes tightly like he'd done just before he'd said _there was no choice to make_. "Felicity," his voice is that same soft tone her eyes fly up to meet his. "You should go home. Get some sleep. You're exhausted… more than I've ever seen you."

"Gee thanks," she drawls, her tone dry, "you really know how to charm a girl, Oliver."

Oliver ducks his head and she sees the small quirk of his lips – she would so totally fist pump if she wasn't so tired because she _cannot _remember the last time she saw him smile – but he wipes it away before he lifts his head and his eyes meet hers. His concern is written in his blue, blue eyes clear as day and she knows that he isn't the only one that has dark circles under his eyes.

She _is _exhausted. She _does _want to get some sleep.

But Felicity knows if she listens and goes home to sleep, Digg will be parked on the curb outside her townhouse before her head hits her pillow.

"Still. You should –"

"I can't. I have…" Felicity waves her hand around and points over her shoulder at her computers where her searches are still running because there has to be something somewhere and she _will _find it, but she can't find the words and grumbles under her breath. "This is important, Oliver."

Oliver purses his lips together as he stares at her and she can read what his eyes are saying to her. _She _is important, too.

Guilt is present in his gaze, too. The all-to-familiar guilt that tells her that sometimes he regrets ever bringing her into this life. _His _life.

"It is." Oliver agrees because it _is _important and he knows that it's useless to argue with Felicity, but he can't let this slide because he doesn't want to see her turn into him. "But it'll still be there _after _you get some sleep, Felicity."

Felicity should bargain with him and say she'll get some sleep when _he _sleeps, but that's not what comes out when she opens her mouth. "And will _you_? And Digg? And Sara and Roy?"

It reminds her of weeks ago when her voice was incredibly small when she voiced her deepest fear. _Just the… just the thought of losing someone that important to me again –_

_Hey, _Oliver cut her off._ You're not going to lose me_.

Oliver looks like he wants to promise her the same thing again, promise that she isn't going to lose _any _of them, but that's not something he can promise when Slade Wilson is still gunning for Team Arrow.

He opts for saying nothing, and she appreciates that he doesn't lie to her.

Felicity's mouth opens and closes as she searches for something to say, but then then the door to the lair slams open and heavy footsteps are heard on the stairs. Oliver jumps to his feet and instinctively reaches for his bow, and she doesn't have to look at Digg to know his gun is drawn, but then Sara comes into view and everyone exhales in relief because the assassin hasn't answered any of their calls or texts, either.

Diggle lowers his gun as Oliver makes his way to Sara. "Sara…" Oliver's voice is soft and the tone is different than the one he uses for her, but Felicity's heart still constricts in her chest. "Where were you? If Felicity hadn't pulled up the GPS from your phone we –"

His words die on his tongue when Sara slumps forward and all of the fight seemingly drains from her, and it's obvious that she's just as exhausted as everyone else. "It's my dad," she breathes and her voice hitches in her throat. "He's been arrested."

Diggle wanders over from where he'd been stood on the mats and he crosses his arms over his chest. "Arrested?" He echoes and his eyebrows knit together. "Arrested for _what_?"

Sara meets his gaze before she slowly drags her eyes back to Oliver.

And Felicity knows that whatever she is about to say is going to be _bad_.

"For aiding and abetting the vigilante," Sara says finally.

Felicity hates it when she's right.

. . .

The next time Oliver tells her to head home, Felicity listens.

Her hand shoves open her door as she enters her bedroom and she throws her heels into the corner before she looks around in search of something to distract herself from her thoughts. Felicity briefly considers crawling into her bed and trying to sleep, but she knows it would be pointless. Regardless of how exhausted she is, sleep won't come.

Not since she's added Detective Lance to her worry list.

Felicity catches her reflection and frowns at what she sees, then she decides to shower and clean off the past couple of days. She pulls off her shirt and tosses it to the floor before she pushes her skirt down her legs. It pools at her feet then she kicks it away where her heels lay abandoned.

_He's been arrested… for aiding and abetting the vigilante…_

Rubbing hands over her tired eyes she groans as she walks into the bathroom and turns on the shower. The water runs cold at first touch but soon starts to warm and she just stares at the running water because reality's finally setting in.

She shakily takes a deep breath and her bra and panties are discarded as the steam from the shower begins to fog up the mirror. Her stomach lurches and she almost slips as she steps in the shower, the scalding water slapping against her back and sliding down her spine. She shivers even in the heat because of the words swimming in her mind.

_He's been arrested… for aiding and abetting the vigilante…_

Aiding and abetting.

Detective Lance had nearly arrested _her _for that very crime a year ago.

Felicity leans her body to the right so she can rest her head against the white tile wall and her _lack _of response bothers her. Normally tears would be welling up in her eyes or she'd be laughing hysterically to stop herself from crying, but doesn't.

Instead she feels _numb_.

Her heart hammers in her chest, the steam feels suffocating, and she quickly grabs for the shampoo and slathers it between her hands before she rubs into her hair. Felicity knows she lost her innocence around the same time an earthquake device leveled the Glades, but this – _this _is different.

She has always felt things deeply, some would say _too _deeply, and she doesn't want to lose that.

Felicity closes her eyes and rinses her head in the water, then shuts off the shower and reaches for her towel. She knows the darkness that threatens to swallow her friends whole but she doesn't want that same darkness to engulf her – she doesn't want to be polluted. Corrupted.

But she can't walk away.

Her hands shake as she wipes a clean streak across the fogged up mirror to stare at herself, but the person she sees looking back at her isn't _her. _

Water drips down her skin as she walks into her room and she quickly gets dressed, pulling on a loose pair of jeans and a light sweater before towel drying her hair. Her feet pad against the floor as she heads to her closet and hunts for a pair of flats. She loves her heels, _honestly_, but sometimes she misses the days where it was acceptable to wear her panda flats to work.

Felicity pauses in pulling on a simple pair of black flats when she realizes that she is officially unemployed. She hasn't received an e-mail or a phone call but she doesn't really need one. Isabel knows about Oliver's nighttime activities as a vigilante and she's now running QC – Felicity _knows _that means her days of being an assistant are over.

Bright eyes fall shut. "Get a grip, Smoak. It's temporary." Felicity nods to herself as she throws on a coat and grabs her keys from the bowl she keeps on the table beside her front door. How she failed to realize her current employment status – or lack thereof – before now, she doesn't know, but it doesn't matter. They have more important things to worry about.

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion when she notes that Digg listened and _isn't _parked on the curb outside her house, but she pushes that thought from her mind as she slides into her car and pulls out of the driveway before she can talk herself out of her. Felicity knows that her presence will be a red flag because on paper there is no reason, no _connection_ that explains her driving to Iron Heights to see Detective Lance.

But she has to see that he's okay.

She keeps her resolve until she is actually at Iron Height requesting to see Detective Lance. "I'm, uh… Felicity Smoak. Detective Lance is…" she wrings her hands together in front of her and her eyebrows knit together because she has no idea how to define their relationship. He's a co-conspirator and an unofficial member of Team Arrow. Not that she can say _that_. Not unless she wants them to throw her in a cell of her own.

Felicity opens and closes her mouth as she tries to think of something to say, but words don't come and she _knew _she should have tried to get some sleep. This was obviously a bad idea. "He's a… friend," she says finally even though the relationship between her and Detective Lance doesn't even loosely border the definition of friendship. "Actually, he's the father of a friend and I just wanted to see him. Make sure he's okay. Not that I'm doubting the care here, because I'm not. I, uh – so can I see him or is this like a hospital thing where only family can visit because – I mean, Detective Lance _is _family… well, he's really not… but he's family of family… I just…"

She trails off and a pair of wide eyes blink at her, but then the guard leads her towards the visiting room and her vitals return to normal levels. Her eyes scan her surroundings and her nose scrunches up when she notices just how bland and dull the walls look. Thank Google she was never charged for aiding and abetting the Arrow because she _totally _wouldn't survive 18 months in this place.

Felicity tentatively sits down at one of the tables to wait, chewing on her thumb nail and spitting out the flakes plumb colored nail polish that come off as she waits for Detective Lance. She doesn't have to wait long.

Her head darts up when she hears the door clang open, and her heart constricts when she sees him because he doesn't look like him. Detective Lance is a good man and a good police officer. He doesn't deserve _this. _

His eyes are filled with concern and she knows there is totally an 83% chance that he is going to ask her what the hell she was thinking coming here, but he sits down across from her. "Miss Smoak," he sighs her name like he always does when she pops up unexpected, and her heart beams at the sound because for a moment she can pretend things are normal.

Her lips curl into a watery smile. "Hello, Detective."

He shakes his head in amusement but she sees the loss that flashes before his eyes, and it breaks her heart because this is so, _so _wrong. "I'm not even an officer anymore, Miss Smoak. Much less a detective."

"You'll always be a detective to _me_." Felicity murmurs as she clasps her hands on the table in front of her to stop herself from fidgeting. Her teeth catch her bottom lip and she realizes that she never planned out what she was going to say when she got here. She just needed to be sure he was okay and Sara's word hadn't been enough to appease her – she'd needed to see it with her own eyes.

Detective Lance – she refuses to think of him as anything else – sighs again and then he's looking at her with that pointed stare that used to intimidated the holy hell out of her. "What're you doing here?"

She glances at him. "Sorry. You probably don't want to see me since I'm partially to blame for you being in here because we always reach out to you, not that I would have asked if there had been another way but I can go –"

He shakes his head, his brows hiked. "Hey, no, I'm not complainin'. This ain't your fault, Miss Smoak. I reached out for help just as much as _you _did. I just thought, well, that you'd be keeping your distance 'cause you don't want people wondering why Queen's assistant is visiting me in prison."

"_Executive Assistant_," Felicity stresses before realizes that she isn't even that anymore. "And it's _ex _assistant now." His eyebrows hike further up his forehead in question and she slumps forward because everything changed so fast that she hasn't processed it yet. "Oliver put his trust in the wrong person. There was a vote that needed to be made but because – because of Thea he couldn't _think _about the company and… he appointed someone else temporary CEO. But it turns out that Isabel Rochev is in cahoots with Slade Wilson. She convinced the board to make her temporary appointment permanent and is now running QC."

Detective Lance breathes out through his teeth, and the silence hangs thick in the air until he reaches out to grip her hand with his own. "You never said why you're here."

Felicity knits her eyebrows together. "I wanted to make sure you were okay and see if there was anything I could do to help… _is _– _is _there anything I can do to help?"

"About this?" He nods at the room. "Nah, not really. But there's something you can do for me that'll make this more bearable. Promise me you'll look out for Sara. Laurel promised to keep a close eye on her but…" he clucks his tongue. "Laurel doesn't know everything, y'know? So promise me you'll keep an eye on my baby for me. Sara probably wouldn't wanna hear it, but even she needs someone to look out for her sometimes."

Felicity considers telling him that she doesn't need to look out for Sara, but just because her team doesn't need her to have their back in the field doesn't mean they don't need someone to look out for them. They need someone to make sure they're not swallowed by the darkness they battle with day and night.

"Yeah," she says finally with a nods, "I can do that."

His face softens and his lips quirk up into something resembling a smile before he squeezes her hand softly. "You gotta promise me that you're gonna look after yourself, too."

"I'm fine."

He levels her with a look. "You look like you haven't had a decent night's sleep in weeks," Detective Lance points out as his eyebrows reach up to meet his hairline again. "How much sleep have you been gettin'?"

Felicity opens her mouth to answer, but then she has to pause because she can't remember the last time she slept. "Eight hours," she murmurs eventually once she tallies the number of hours in her head.

"A night?"

Felicity sighs. "No. In the past 3 days."

The lines around his mouth and eyes tighten and she knows that he's worried about her.

He's worried about all of them. Especially since Sara is involved.

Felicity wishes that she could tell him not to worry. She wishes that she could assure him that they're all going to come out of this intact.

Detective Lance opens his mouth to say something, but a guard is there telling them that there time is up and she is halfway towards the door before he can stop her. "Detective," she calls out as she looks at him over her shoulder, "I'll do my best to keep an eye on _both _of them."

She walks away then and she knows he notices that she doesn't promise to look out for herself, too.

Because she has already talked this over with Digg and nothing's changed.

If Slade Wilson wants to kill her then he's going to kill her.

There's nothing anyone can do to stop him.

And she's accepted that.

**. . .**

Felicity's sleeves are rolled up to her elbows and her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun as she busies herself with cooking actual food instead of ordering take-out like she so often does. The smell of spices linger in the air and remind her of a time when she used to sit at the counter each night and watch her mother cook homemade meals.

Her lips curl into a soft smile. Felicity remembers how her mother used to cook and clean when she was stressed because the simple routine comforted her, and she knows that it's a habit that her mother has passed onto her. _Stressed _seems like an understatement for how she's been feeling the past couple of months but she swears her house has never been cleaner. Not even when she first moved in.

Music floats through the air and she hums along with the record that's playing from the living room, pausing only when she hears her phone vibrate. She quickly wipes her hands and reaches for it. Her lips twitch and her eyebrow arches when she reads the text message from Digg.

_You home?_

Felicity snorts under her breath and types out a reply, rolling her eyes as she hits send.

_Of course I am. Where else would I be? I was told I wasn't allowed back in the lair til tomorrow morning._

It only takes a minute for her phone to vibrate again.

_You weren't home when I did a drive by earlier._

Her eyes narrow. Of course he drove by on his way home. The paranoid nerf herder.

_You're a stalker. Come inside already._

His next reply makes her laugh.

_What makes you think I'm outside?_

She shakes her head because she can clearly picture the amused smile strewn across his face as she types out her response with a smile of her own before she places her phone back on the counter, returning to pots and pans on the stove.

_I may be blonde but I'm not that blonde, Digg. _

Felicity stirs one of the pots before she walks back over to the kitchen island to continue cutting up the tomatoes, and she beams when she hears the click of a lock before her front door opens. "You know," she calls out, her voice thick with amusement, "my neighbors are gonna think you're a stalker and call the cops if you keep parking on the curb and watching my house.

Diggle comes into view wearing his signature look of amusement as he tosses his keys on the counter. "I'm sure you'd think of a cover story before they hauled me away." His grin widens as he heaves himself onto one of the bar stools opposite of her, resting his elbows on the kitchen island.

She tips her head to the side in thought. "Probably," she muses before she look at him over the rim of her glasses, "But my cover stories aren't much better than Oliver's. I mean, they're nowhere near as bad as that whole thing with the energy drinks but – well, you've been warned."

He picks up a piece of tomato from the cutting board just before she moves over to the stove and tosses it into one of the pans. "You'll just have to bail me out then," he says with a smile.

Felicity turns and laughs. "_Suuure_…" she drawls with a quirk of her eyebrows. "Because I have plenty of money to spare now that I'm unemployed."

The spark of amusement that had been in his eyes fades, and unease seeps in. John Diggle is the overprotective brother that she never had but she loves it him for it and it warms her heart when she sees the concern and compassion in written the creases on his forehead. She really loves Digg.

She walks over to the fridge and grabs two bottles of water before tossing one to Diggle. "Hey… it's okay." Felicity smiles as she walks back to the island and leans against the counter, using her thumb to massage away the creases on his forehead. "I'm gonna be fine. I have some money saved up. You don't have to worry about me."

"Tough." Diggle says as he follows her over to the stove and rests a hand at the base of her neck. He's not holding, just letting it rest there, solid, heavy. "I think I'll hold onto _that _job a little while longer," he murmurs.

Felicity takes a deep breath and leans her head back into his hands. "Yeah?" She lets the solid weight of his hand remind her that he's still there and she relaxes. "For how long?"

"For every day of the rest of my life."

She turns her head to look at him and, if she doubted the sincerity she heard in his voice, then the grave expression on his face erases all traces of it. He means it and she remembers just why she loves John Diggle. "You know…" Felicity trails off and a watery smile engraves her face before she lightly punches him on the shoulder. "I kinda love you, John Diggle."

He uses the hand he has at the base of her neck to pull her towards him, then he presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. "I kinda love you, too, Felicity Smoak."

Felicity shakes her head and walks out of his reach, his hand dropping to his side while she retrieves two plates, and he dips his finger into one of the pots to taste the content. "Ow, _fuck_." Diggle growls when the sauce is hotter than expected and promptly sticks his finger in his mouth to help with the burn.

Felicity snorts. "You so deserved that," she teases as she strains the noodles before she piles spaghetti onto the two plates and carries them into the living room, Diggle snorting something inaudible under his breath as he follows her.

He plops down in the comfortable looking armchair and accepts the plate that she hands him, his eyes scanning the room as she mimics his action and sits down on the sofa. "I'd expect nothing less," Diggle admits as he takes it all in, the bright colors around the room undeniably Felicity Smoak.

Felicity folds her lips together and she tips her head to the side in thought. "Huh," she muses as she watches him scan the room and take it all in, "I forgot that you haven't been here before. Well you _have _been here before. You helped me move in and you've been parked on my curb almost every night for the past couple of months, I just, uh… I just meant that, y'know – everything was still in boxes last time you were here. Which is actually kind of weird now that I think about it."

"We spend almost 16 hours together daily, Felicity." Diggle chuckles lowly and she understands what he's saying. She's usually only home long enough to grab a couple hours of sleep. "Though this _is _better than that shoe-box apartment you were living in."

Bright eyes roll in exasperation. "Don't even start!" Felicity warns as she holds up her fork like a weapon and her smile widens when she hears him snort in amusement. "There was _nothing _wrong with my apartment."

His lips twitch. "Then why'd you move?"

"Because _you _complained that the security was lax every time you came over!"

Diggle stifles his amusement and soft music continues to float through the room as they continue to eat their meal in comfortable silence. He feels Felicity's eyes on him and he knows it's only a matter of time before she breaks the silence.

Felicity Smoak is _never _quiet.

Felicity talks aimlessly, about everything and nothing at once, going off on tangents that have nothing to do with the point that she is trying to get across. She babbles when she is nervous, she argues when she disagrees, she uses her _loud voice _when she is angry, but she is never quiet.

He takes her plate from her when she's done eating and walks back into the kitchen to clean up the dirty dishes. Felicity tries to fight him – of course she does because she's independent and she wouldn't be Felicity is she didn't – but he shoots her down softly.

He shrugs. "My mother always had a rule: you don't clean if you cooked."

The dishes clink in the sink as he uses the rough side of a sponge to scrub the sauce off the porcelain plates and the pots and the pans before he leaves them to dry in the rack to the right of the sink. He wipes down the counters. He drains the sink. He rinses out his rag and throws it into the sink.

"So…" Diggle begins as he walks back into the living room, surprised that Felicity isn't where he left her. "Wow," he says, eyes wide, as he tosses the towel over his shoulder once he's finished drying his hands. "My grandfather had one just like that. It must be from –"

"The 60s." Felicity answers as she sorts through her records. "My mother found it at a yard sale and fell completely in love with it. It didn't really work but that didn't matter to her – she knew my dad would fix it for her. He was always tinkering with broken appliances and electronics."

Diggle pauses when he reaches her side, his head tipping to the side in thought because Felicity _never _talks about her parents. Her talking about her family happens just as often as Oliver opening up about what happened on Lian Yu, but he doesn't say that. He knows _that_ will just make her clam up.

Instead he takes in the condition of the record player and notes that, while it _is_ old, it isn't dusty. But that doesn't really surprise him because Felicity Smoak is nothing if not careful with all of her tech.

"You know when they first tried coding digital music, they couldn't figure out why it sounded so flat." Felicity continues as she rifles through the stack of old records. "Eventually they figured out it was the lack of dirt."

Diggle grins in amusement. "Dirt?"

She waves her hand distractedly. "That's what they called it. You know, the dirt in the instruments. Minute imperfections. Without it the music sounds… well, digital. There's gotta be a little dirt before it really sounds like music."

Felicity finally finds the record she's looking for, puts it on, and listens to the scratch of empty air before the music starts.

"…_sous le ciel de Paris marchent des amoureux…"_

Diggle quirks an eyebrow as the accented voice filters through the air and he looks at her curiously, wondering if she realizes just how much she's revealing about herself. "Didn't know you knew French, Felicity."

Her eyebrows knit together. "That's because I don't. My mom loved him though – Yves Montand." Felicity catches her bottom lip with her teeth as she listens to the Italian-born French singer, then after several minutes she turns to look at Digg. "What are you doing here, Digg?"

Diggle shrugs his shoulders. "It's been a long couple of days and the boss said he didn't want to see any of us until we got some rest. Guess I figured you wouldn't want to be alone."

She folds her lips as she examines him for a moment, looking over at him with her brow raised. "_Really?_"

"Really." He nods before he aims her a grin. "So you're going to pick out a movie and we're not moving from that couch. We'll have some popcorn… maybe some ice-cream if you're feeling dangerous…" his smile widens. "Then you're going to get a _minimum _of eight hours of sleep and I'm going to crash on your couch."

"But…"

"We can fight back _tomorrow_, Felicity." Diggle murmurs softly before he gives her a gentle push, directing her over to the bookshelf storing all of her movies. "Now go pick out a movie."

Felicity nods, tears in her eyes.

She really, _really _loves John Diggle.

**. . .**

Roy doesn't come back.

Felicity knows she is blowing up his cellphone like a jealous ex-girlfriend because, even though he walked out, she never thought he'd actually _leave_. He's immediately pushed to the top of her worry list because his entire life has burned to ashes at his feet and he's all alone and she can't help him if she doesn't know where he is.

She respects his need to sulk, but only to a certain point.

After two days of radio silence she decides enough is enough and tries calling his cell. Again. And again. And again.

It doesn't surprise her when each call goes directly to voice-mail.

Felicity's teeth catch her bottom lip and her heart pangs in her chest and she wonders for roughly the 834th time if she made the right decision when she made the decision to love Roy.

Because her heart hurts.

It hurts because Roy is hurting.

He doesn't answer because he doesn't want to talk to her. _Fine. _She leaves him a message anyway.

Then she waits two hours with no response before she texts him:

_If you want me to leave you alone, let me know you're OK._

He responds two minutes later.

_Go away, Barbie. _

Felicity's bright eyes fill with tears when she sees the familiar nickname.

She remembers how she ranted and raged and used her loud voice the first time he called her that, but now her heart constricts because she misses hearing him say it; she misses _him_. The fucker.

But she does what he says and she leaves him alone.

She tries to call him again the next day and her heart shatters in her chest.

_"… I'm sorry; the number you have dialed is not in service, or is temporarily disconnected. Please check the number and try again…"_

**. . .**

Felicity tenses and spins around in her chair when she hears footsteps on the stairs, but her shoulders slump forward in relief when she realizes that it's Oliver. Not that she was expecting someone else.

Diggle is upstairs keeping a close eye on Thea now that Roy is MIA, and Sara is at Iron Heights visiting Detective Lance before she becomes Laurel's shadow for the rest of the night.

Slade still hasn't made another move and Felicity _knows _it's making everyone twitchy. And restless.

"So… how'd it go? Do I have to get the first aid kit?" Felicity questions as she rises to her feet before she marches over to him and her eyes scan him for injuries – even though she _knows _he's fine.

She pauses.

He better be fine because Oliver never told her he was hurt when he said he was heading back to the lair. Not that it'd be the first time someone on her team lied to her about being hurt. Especially Oliver. He never admits to being hurt unless he has no choice. He always fights her, too, when she tries to play doctor with him –

"Three… two… one…" she murmurs under her breath as she cringes.

If she finds so much as a hangnail she is going to use her loud voice and use his very pointy arrows to turn him into her own person pincushion before she ensures he never boards another flight without first receiving a cavity search.

Oliver's looking at her with a quirked eyebrow and a small smile; she realizes that he heard her count down from three but she ignores his look. Instead Felicity quirks an eyebrow of her own and silently orders him to answer her question right now before she starts using her loud voice.

He doesn't _like _her loud voice so he pauses on his way over to the case where he keeps his bow, his gloved hand coming to rest on her shoulder as he meets her gaze head on. "I'm fine, Felicity," he says.

Felicity folds her lips together and returns to her chair – her own Iron Throne – before she follows his movements through the lair. She watches him put away his bow and she watches him tear off his gloves and she watches the way his muscles coil in his back.

_Fine _is not the word she would use to describe Oliver Queen.

Her head tips to the side in thought. Unless she's talking about his level of attractiveness because, yes, in that case his _is _fine. His blue, blue eyes are like hooks for the soul and his jaw alone is very distracting and very square.

Actually, square doesn't really cover it.

There's _square _and then there's what he has going on… which is _so _not that point she was trying to make.

The point is… "Are you sure?" Felicity asks and her eyes narrow a fraction before she continues to prod him. "I mean, it's okay if you're not fine. It's been five days since Team Deathstroke recruited a bus full with criminals to their cause and took over QC."

Oliver tenses and she understands why.

Five days later and they're no closer to finding Slade.

Oliver backs away from the glass case and makes his way over to her, his thigh brushing up against her shoulder as he leans against the desk. "Have you found anything on Slade?"

Felicity narrows her eyes in annoyance as she spins around to face her computers. "No. He hasn't really been hiding who he is but, uh – that doesn't really help us. He has been renting a condo in the city for months but I ran facial recognition using the security footage from the building and as far as I can tell he's never actually been there. It's just for show," she says as a sigh rips out of her. "If he's made any other purchases it was under a fake identity but everyone thought he was dead up until a couple months ago _soooo _he has no known aliases."

His jaw ticks. "And Isabel? Do – do you know why Isabel…?" His voice trails off and self-loathing seeps into his eyes because this is _his _fault. He trusted her. He appointed her temporary CEO. "Do you know _why _she was so determined to take over the company?"

Felicity shakes her head and wishes for the fifth day in a row that she had some good news; that she had found the break they were looking for. "Not really, no." Her fingers dance across the keyboard and all of the information she's managed to collect on Isabel pops up on one of her computer screens. "Isabel Rochev interned at Queen Consolidated back in 2004 when she was still in business school until her internship was ended early… but that's it. There's no other record of her having anything to do with your family or QC."

He crosses his arms over his chest and then inhales deeply before his head falls back. "The sins of the father are the sins of the son," Oliver murmurs.

Felicity blinks at him. "What was that?"

"Isabel's answer when I asked her why. The sins of the father…"

"– are the sins of the son." Felicity finishes as her teeth catch her bottom lip and she frowns, pursing her lips together in thought before she swings herself so she can look at his face. Her legs bump into his as she spins. "Maybe… maybe your mom would know? If this _does _have to do with what happened when she was an intern then –"

"Yeah." Oliver takes a deep breath and he doesn't say anything beyond that, but he doesn't really have to; because Felicity knows that, while things have been better between him and his mother since Thea's abduction, there's still tension.

Felicity opens her mouth only to close it again when she can't find the right thing to say and then the silence is interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. Hope builds in her chest and she prays that it's Roy – maybe he's finally calling her back because he's ready to come _home_ – but it isn't her phone that's ringing.

Her eyebrows knit together when she realizes it's the phone that Oliver uses as the vigilante, which doesn't make sense because Detective Lance is still in Iron Heights. "Looks like someone's reaching out for the vigilante…" she murmurs as she reaches for it and then her heart stutters to a stop because this can't be good.

Dread settles in her stomach as she hands it to Oliver, "It's Laurel."

**. . .**

Felicity frowns as she follows the red dot on her screen – and, huh, she's pretty sure she never told Oliver that she placed a tracker on his phone and sewed one into his suit – and she chews on her thumb nail. Flakes of nail polish come off and she spits them out and she's honestly starting to wonder why she bothers painting her nails when things are stressful. It never stays _on _her nails.

Her heart hammers in her chest and her stomach churns because she has a bad feeling about this. It's the first time Laurel reached out since the whole snafu with Sebastian Blood. Meaning it's the first time she's reached out since Oliver opened his eyes and realized he had a blind spot for Gorgeous Laurel.

He doesn't anymore – at least, that's what he _claims_.

But Felicity isn't convinced. It's _Laurel_.

_The _Laurel.

The comms crackle to life and then she hears Oliver's voice in her ear. "Laurel's here," he says and she can hear the stress in his voice and it puts her on high alert because _he's _on high alert. Laurel stopped gunning for his ass months ago but still…

Better safe than sorry.

Felicity pulls herself closer to her desk and straightens her back. "Aye aye, Captain." Her voice is a little higher than normal and a bit hysterical as her heart hammers in her chest but neither of them comment on it. "Keep the comms on the whole time, Oliver."

Oliver's silent.

Her eyes narrow a fraction. "Don't do the thing where you sulk and silently scowl until I change my mind because it _so _isn't going to happen, mister. Keep the comms on."

He doesn't say anything in response but she hears the sound of a car door opening before she hears the distinct sound of heels clicking against the pavement.

"_I heard about your father being arrested," _Oliver's distorted voice rings in her ear and Felicity's heart pangs in her chest because she knows he feels just as much guilt as she does when it comes to Detective Lance. _"If I could help him, I would."_

"_That's not what this is about," _Laurel says.

Felicity pauses and the feeling of dread she felt the moment they got the call returns because if the meeting isn't about _that_, then what is it about?

"_It's funny isn't?_" Laurel continues. _"A year ago he thought you were a murderer and me I was – I was drawn to you. I couldn't explain why but… but a part of me felt connected to you."_

"Oh this doesn't sound good…" Felicity murmurs under her breath and winces when she hears Oliver's soft growl in response. "Sorry. _So _sorry. I'll stop the commentary now."

Laurel pauses and the silence isn't awkward, it's reflective, and it causes the tech genius' skin to prickle because it's a tone she recognizes. _"You were always there… for me, for my family, and for some reason I never asked __**why**__."_

"_Are you asking now?" _Oliver asks.

"Oliver…" Felicity warns as her heart stutters to a stop because this is the last thing they need right now. She always knew it was only a matter of time before Laurel found out. But there's so much going on right now that it really isn't the most opportune moment to let someone else in on _the _secret.

Oliver doesn't need the distraction that it would surely cause.

Not as long as they're up against Slade.

All uncertainty is gone from Laurel's voice when she answers. _"I don't have to because I already know the answer." _

Felicity freezes because Laurel sounds calm and confident in a way that someone only could when they believed what they were saying; when their eyes were opened to the truth. Her pulse races and she understands why she recognized the lawyer's tone – it's because her voice had sounded the same when everything suddenly became clear to _her_.

_Everything about you just became so unbelievably clear,_ she'd said.

Felicity doesn't understand how but she knows that Laurel _knows_.

She holds her breath as she listens to Oliver's unsteady breaths when Laurel gets a call, and then Laurel's voice is frantic and her heels are clacking against the pavement before she dives into her car and drives off.

Felicity's eyebrows knit together in confusion and everything is silent until she hears the roar of a revving engine. "I'm on my way back," Oliver says. "Laurel just got a call from Sara. Can you-"

"Sometimes it hurts me that you have to ask." Felicity mutters as she reaches for her phone to text Sara even though her heart is still pounding in her chest because _Laurel knows! Laurel knows! Laurel knows!_

**. . .**

Several hours after Laurel's interrupted revelation, Felicity makes it home.

Her heart still hasn't stopped pounding in her chest and she feels numb to the world around her as she steps into her townhouse. Felicity drops her keys into the bowl before she pushes the door shut and locks it and then she leans back against it and allows herself a moment to just _breathe_.

Felicity brings her hand to her hammering heart as she tries to process the last few hours but really all she wants to do is unwind and relax with a hot bath and a glass of wine before she falls into her bed. She _needs _a good 9 hours of sleep but she knows that won't happen now because her mind just _won't _shut up.

Because Laurel knows that Oliver is the Arrow.

Laurel never _said _that she knows that the vigilante is Oliver – she'd been called away before she got that chance because Detective Lance was attacked in prison – but Felicity knows that Laurel knows. She heard it in the other woman's voice. Laurel knows.

Felicity moves her hands to her shoulders as she tries to ease the tension that she feels there by working out the kinks. "Wine," she murmurs because she knows her mind will run rampant with worst-case scenarios if she doesn't occupy herself _somehow_. "I _need_ wine."

Her ponytail bounces from shoulder to shoulder as she nods to herself, humming under her breath as she kicks off her flats and shrugs off her blue pea coat as she cuts through her living room. She is going to pour herself a glass of wine. She is going to relax on her couch and drink said glass of wine before she calls Sara to check in.

She is _not _going to worry about Slade. She is _not _going to worry about Laurel.

Her bright eyes narrow a fraction as her mind drifts back to Laurel. "_Ugh_. Because we totally need something else to deal with," she mumbles as she runs her hand along the surfaces in her living room to guide her to the kitchen. "I mean, it's not like we have enough going on as it is with a psychotic pirate gunning for us and Detective Lance being in Iron Height and Roy being MIA. Let's add Laurel to the –"

Felicity freezes and her words cut off abruptly.

She's been working with Team Arrow for almost two years now – though she guess in the beginning they were called Team Hood – and she is a lot more aware of her surroundings than she used to be. Felicity has to be now that vigilantes and drug lords and badass assassins and psychotic pirates are a part of her life.

Her heart starts to hammer in her chest once more but this time it isn't because of her chaotic thoughts, it's because she can feel someone's eyes on her. White noise fills her ears but she doesn't freak out. Instead she forces herself to remain calm as she tosses her coat onto her sofa and turns on her heel to squint into the darkness.

Light from the street lights outside create a backdrop against the intruder and her skin prickles when she makes out his outline. "You know," Felicity says and she is thankful that her voice is a lot steadier than she thought it'd be, "there is a front door for a reason. It gives me the chance to avoid talking to someone I don't want to see. They're basically the original caller ID."

Laughter that is deep and gruff fills the room before it's followed by a voice that somehow manages to be smooth and dangerous at the same time. "But you're not surprised I'm here." Amusement colors his tone and it isn't a question.

Felicity wraps her arms around her stomach, but she doesn't deny his words because she _has _been half expecting something like this to happen. Even Digg has been worried about her finding herself in this situation for weeks now. It's why he's been parked on her curb almost every night since they heard the name Slade Wilson.

"Not really, no. I'm the only member of Team Arrow who hasn't had the _mis_fortune of meeting you." Her head tips to the side as she stops in front of her coffee table. "I actually had a bet going with myself to see how long it would take for you to hunt me down. Looks like I won."

"I can see why the kid likes you, Miss Smoak."

Felicity opens and closes her mouth but no words come out because what is she supposed to say to _that_?

Bright lights then replace the darkness and she has to blink three times before she can make out more than bright blurs. He is dressed in an expensive suit but he looks relaxed as he lounges in her armchair. He's older, too. His hair is grey at the temples and the eye patch is new, but she can still see the resemblance to the man he once was.

Felicity knows who she's looking at.

Slade Wilson.

"You can relax." Slade grins. "I'm not here to harm you."

Felicity can't help it; she snorts. "No? Then what the hell do you want?"

"To talk." His gaze sweeps over her and an amused smirk tugs at his lips before he gestures to the sofa opposite him, indicating that she should down. "Please sit down. We have a lot to talk about."

Felicity licks her pink lips and considers her options; considers insisting that she'd rather stand. But she remembers that the man in front of her was dangerous _before_ he was injected with mirakuru and she carefully lowers herself onto the sofa, her eyes never leaving him for a second.

"You have nothing to say that I want to hear," she shrugs, her voice shaking.

"But we have so much in common, Miss Smoak." Slade pauses and tips his head to the side, smirking like he knows what the answer to his question will be before he asks it. "Or would you prefer I call you Felicity?"

Felicity scrunches up her nose in disgust and _hates _the way her name sounds as it rolls of his tongue. "Miss Smoak is fine," she says.

"Miss Smoak it is then." He nods as he leans back in the armchair and he looks both graceful and cold as he appraises her. Slade runs his gaze over her like so many do when they're trying to figure out why someone like her is in the same orbit as Oliver Queen, and the silence that engulfs them nearly suffocates her.

Eventually, Felicity clears her throat. "For someone who wants to talk you're not doing a lot of talking."

"You're right, I'm not. My apologies." Slade smirks as he flicks his arms out and brushes imaginary wrinkles from his suit. "This conversation has been a long time coming, Miss Smoak. Though I'll admit it's taking place sooner than I had planned. But I'm afraid good help is hard to find and it couldn't be helped," his smirk widens when she frowns, "Oliver Queen needed another distraction."

She sees _red_. "Is that what taking Thea was to you? A _distraction_?" Felicity snarls as she thinks about how he kidnapped an innocent girl and ripped her entire world apart just so he could steal away a bus full of criminals while they were too distracted to notice. "You ripped that girl's world apart!"

"No! Her brother's _lies _did that," Slade sneers. "I merely told her the truth."

Felicity's eyebrows knit together as a thought creeps around the edges of her mind and the pieces fall into place. Slade took Oliver's sister because he needed him distracted, but that goal was accomplished the moment they knew Slade had taken Thea. He still would have gotten what he wanted without telling her the truth about Malcolm.

So why did he bother telling Thea the truth?

And, if he got what he wanted, why was he here talking to her?

_This conversation has been a long time coming, Miss Smoak. Though I'll admit it's taking place sooner than I had planned, but I'm afraid good help is hard to find and it couldn't be helped. _Slade had said. _Oliver Queen needed another distraction._

Another distraction.

_Another_.

Felicity straightens her back and glares at him over the rim of her glasses. "You told Laurel," she realizes and it suddenly makes sense why the lawyer had been so interested in the vigilante again. "You told Laurel that Oliver's the vigilante."

"Yes."

Her eyes narrow a fraction more. "Why?"

"Because the worst betrayals often come from those we trust the most."

_Someone killed Shado, Slade _loved _Shado, and it was my fault. _Oliver's blue, blue eyes were haunted._ I wanted to tell him the truth because it would have been better coming from me, but I didn't, and –_

_And he found out another way._

"You're punishing Oliver. You're tearing everything he cares about away from him by exposing secrets he's kept. Because he didn't tell you what happened to Shado" – Slade's eye narrows at the mention of the woman's name but she ignores it and barrels on – "He didn't tell you and you found out another way. He betrayed you. Because it would have been better coming from him. That's why you told Thea about Merlyn. It's why you told Laurel that Oliver's the Arrow."

Slade's scowl fades from his face and his lips twitch in amusement. "Smart girl."

"But you didn't get the response you wanted from Laurel." Felicity doesn't need him to answer her because she already knows she's right. She knows Isabel's been working with Slade and if he's been around since the she-devil first tried to get her manicured paws on QC, then he was in Starling City when Laurel was working with the task force trying to hunt down the Arrow.

He'd been hoping that telling her that Oliver was the Arrow would drive her into a frenzy where she would pursue the vigilante. He'd been hoping she would confront Oliver. He'd been hoping that Laurel would call him out on he's been lying to her since he returned from Lian Yu.

But the only reason Laurel hated the vigilante was because of _Tommy Merlyn_. She'd hated the Arrow because he hadn't saved Tommy.

But Laurel knows now that the vigilante is Oliver.

Laurel knows that Oliver _tried _to save Tommy.

Slade shrugs. "I'll admit I underestimated Laurel Lance. Much like I did you."

Felicity frowns. _Her?_

"When Ms. Rochev said that you more than just the pretty blonde assistant, I almost didn't believe her. Oliver's done a decent job convincing people _that's _all you are to him, but he showed his hand a few times…" He grins, a cruel, dark smile. "Killing Count Vertigo was the first tip-off."

Felicity can't breathe, let alone speak, but she pushes past the memory of the madman's hands playing with her hair and instead focuses on what he'd said when Oliver had shown up.

_You poisoned me and put me in a hole. You have no idea how much I hated you for that, _he'd sneered before his voice turned amused, _turns out someone else hates you, too._

_Who? _Oliver growled.

_Oh you'll be surprised when you find out…_

Her hands curl into fists which leave little crescent-shaped cuts on her palm. "You… you're the one that set up the Count's new operation," she realizes and bile rises in her throat as she thinks about how long Slade's been watching them. "You used the Count to draw Oliver out."

Slade flashes his teeth. "Very good."

"But why?" She rasps.

Slade's gaze leaves her and instead focuses on _something _to the left of her, but when she looks there's nothing there. "Because a man will do anything for the woman he loves," he replies and then he's on his feet and walking around the room. "Take Anthony Ivo, for instance."

"Ivo?" Felicity furrows her eyebrows together as she tries to place the name, her confusion only growing when she recognizes it. "He's the one that was looking for the mirakuru. He's the one that killed Shado. He –"

"_Oliver_ killed Shado," Slade insists with a growl. "Ivo may have been the one holding the bullet but _Oliver _is the one that aimed the gun. _He's _the reason the woman I love is dead. Shado chose _him _but he chose to save another woman over her."

Felicity's heart pangs. _Sara_.

Slade seems to follow her line of thought because he nods as he moves around the sofa so he's behind her. "_That's _Oliver's problem, see, Miss Smoak?" His lips brush the shell of her ear as he leans down, his hand on her right shoulder and his grip unbearably tight. "The good ones always choose him. Choose to stand by him. Choose to love him. But he never chooses them _back_."

Felicity doesn't move because she refuse to give him the reaction he wants. "Anthony Ivo," she says, her voice thick, hoarse. "He loved someone?"

"His wife," Slade answers as he releases the hold he has on her shoulder before he wanders around the room once more. "You see, before Oliver killed him, I had the chance to talk to Ivo. And I asked him why he ever went looking for the mirakuru. He said he went looking for a miracle because modern medicine could only do so much and his wife was sick."

Felicity tenses as she watches Slade walk over to the record player that her father fixed for her mother, but all he does is turn it on. She listens to the scratch of empty air before the music starts playing and that's when she notices his smirk.

It's still the same record she put on when Diggle was over.

_Yves Montand._

"Ivo was dying and he knew it, but he talked about his wife even when no one would listen. He said they met at Harvard – he was in med school and she was studying art history. He talked about their first date and how she spent the entire night eating bread sticks because he didn't know she was allergic to shellfish and he took her out for surf n' turf, and he felt so bad that he took her out for ice-cream after. Mint chocolate chip was her favorite."

Felicity's heart stutters to a stop.

_You're your mother's daughter, Lissy_. Her father laughed as he wiped the ice-cream from her face, _mint chip's her favorite, too_.

"She was the love of his life but when she got sick he couldn't bear the thought of watching her deteriorate day by day until she was nothing more than a shadow of the woman he met." Slade continues and his grin widens. "He left her to go find a cure because he knew that modern medicine could only do so much and it would never be enough."

_Felicity_, her mother said, _he went away because he had to find something, baby._

"He became obsessed with finding the mirakuru but he started going by another name so he would never forget his wife or why he was searching for a miracle drug that people claimed didn't exist." He turns around to face Felicity, and he runs his hand along the record player. "Yves Montand is an odd choice for someone so young. Your mother used to listen to him, didn't she? She listened to him every night as she drank a glass of wine, and you used to sit at the top of the stairs and watch her dance with your father."

Felicity takes a deep breath that ends up sounding more like a sob because she understands what he is trying to tell her. Slade told Thea the truth about Malcolm. Slade told Laurel the truth about the Arrow. Because those were truths that Oliver knew and chose to keep from them.

Now he's telling her the truth about Anthony Ivo.

"Tell me, Miss Smoak." Slade is suddenly sitting on the coffee table in front of her and he smirks savagely at her. "Do you know what Yves Montand's _real _name was?"

Felicity does, of course she does, but she can't force the words out. Her eyes sting as the numbness that she's been feeling for days fades away and once the first tear runs down her cheek the floodgate of tears she's been holding back suddenly springs open.

"What was his name, Miss Smoak?" Slade hisses.

"His name was…" she stutters thickly, closing her eyes. "His name was Ivo Livi."

Her father's name was Tony Smoak. _Anthony _Smoak.

Anthony Ivo took a new name to remind him of his sick wife.

Her mother used to dance with her father and listen to Yves Montand. _Ivo_ Livi.

All of the evidence he's laid out before her solves the mystery that has been bugging her since she was five because she hates mysteries and they need to be solved, but she can't voice this truth. Slade has to say it. She _needs_ to hear him say it.

"What does Ivo have to do with me?" Felicity rasps, and then opens her eyes.

Slade smirks and his eyes dance with uncontained victory. "He was your father."

**TBC.**

* * *

**AN: **It _was _not supposed to be this long but things just kind of escalated. Also, Anthony Ivo being Felicity's father is _not _something I want to happen. Like sweet merciful zeus let it be _anyone _else – but it _is _possible. Hence this stories. Plot bunnies popped in my head and my willpower is zero. Plus I just want Felicity to have some angst. Everyone else gets some.


End file.
